Because You're Near Me
by THGwoopwoop
Summary: Set pre-Hunger Games (as in one of the earlier games - I haven't specified but I'm thinking like the 71st ish). Effie is struggling with new feelings emerging for Haymitch and the confusion this creates. Will follow Effie in her realisation of the strength of her feelings and what might happen next...
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hi :) Ever since watching MJP2 and squeeling at that kiss I have been wanting to write a little fic. I am literally uploading the first chapter with nothing else written because I want to hear feedback and try and improve. I know where this is going and will persevere even without the comments/reviews but what I'm basically doing here is begging for your feedback - even just a smiley face if you liked it and want me to continue :)_

 _Oh also the rating for the story may change for future chapters as I tend to get a bit smutty ;) but I am feeling this as fluffy for now._

 _Hope you enjoy!_

1

Effie woke from a restless nights sleep as the train jolted and shock her in her bed. There had been several unscheduled stops yesterday and now once again, they were falling dangerously close to being late. She was tired of feeling the nervous knot of anxiety that came with these uncontrollable delays. Debris from a recent storm seeming to lie over the tracks every few hundred miles. It was 4.30 in the morning. She should go back to sleep, get some rest, make up for the sleep she had lost to nightmares and stress dreams, but she knew it was pointless. The only thing that kept her going on these early days of the most recent of the games was being able to plan. Knowing that she could get her young charges where they needed to be, when they needed to be there. It was her way of helping the District Twelve tributes to be as respected as those from the other districts. Over the years of working for District Twelve she had warmed to the people, and the land, and she hated the thought of others looking down on them. She was acutely aware of the judgement District Twelve faced because she had once felt the same way. She cringed inwardly to think of who she once was before she became an escort, she hated that woman even though huge parts of her remained exactly the same. She was trapped as a Capitolite, there were certain standards that were simply expected of her. She had a favourite fantasy where she would drop her Capitol costume and live simply in District Twelve: Rid herself of the clothes that seemed to be more silly and less fun every year. Be satisfied with her natural face, no ridiculous make up or extravagant wigs, which had begun making her feel like a clown. Not having to focus on every part of herself and her life like she was constantly being scrutinised by an unseen but ever present controller. Of course even if any of it was remotely possible the people of District Twelve hated her. It wasn't outright, obviously, but she was just another face of The Capitol to them, it was her who swooped in and stole their children, and she felt their fear and detest for her radiate from their eyes. The tributes every year looked at her with misgiving and she could never get them to warm to her no matter how hard she tried. She just wanted to make it easier for them, make it even a tinier bit better, but everything she did seemed wrong. Her jokes fell flat, her advice, meant to be helpful, sounded like criticism, and her planning and scheduling just seemed like fussing. And maybe she could live with all that, live with the pointlessness of her role, the casual disdain she received from the people in The Capitol (because, of course, to them, she cared too much about her district), the never ending casual horror faced every year. Maybe she could have lived with all that, but what made everything so much worse was that everything she did, all the failings she felt, had a spectator who wasn't afraid of pointing out her faults.

Haymitch had still been young, in the giddy bloom of hate and alcoholism which now poisoned his every breath, when Effie had first been assigned her role for District Twelve. Her first proper job, out there on her own, away from her Capitol safety. She had let her preconceived notions of people from the districts shine brightly, she had truly believed she was better than them, better than him. He had soon made his opinions known, cutting her down sharply, and (although she had not let him see, and would never admit) making her cry bitter tears with the first inkling of regret for what she had let her life become. It was her first realisation that what she had achieved – the life of a famous escort - wasn't really an achievement, more like a life sentence of isolation. He had hated her ever since, rarely missing an opportunity to knock her down, and she had hated him right back. He had been the scapegoat for all her frustrations with her life, and sometimes she riled him up on purpose so that he would lash out her so she could feel that flood of hurt. She deserved it, she was just a "Capitol Whore", or whatever else he could come up with to hurl at her. Over the years, as she began to hate The Games and her role in them, she had warmed to him, as she had warmed to the district. She found herself having to actively remind herself that she didn't like him, that he wasn't charming he was just a drunk, that he wasn't tragic but just wallowing, that he wasn't flirting with her he was being disrespectful. "Sweetheart" and "Princess" indeed. Just the thought of him calling her these names followed by some insult or another made her blush, first with the memory of his attention on her, and then with the annoyance and embarrassment of the first blush. She didn't know when her feelings had muddled, she wasn't sure when the first time she caught herself flirting with him was, or the first time she had replayed their encounters of the day over to herself before she fell asleep, or the first time she had caught herself watching him. She could remember the first time she had made him smile with a bark of a laugh (some terribly inappropriate comment about a Capitol procedure, which had come very close to a complaint). It had thrilled her and made her open herself up more to the little things about the Capitol regime she couldn't bare anymore. He was changing her, and she so desperately wanted to change and become accepted by him, but that was pretty hopeless. She remembered the first time he had offered her a drink from his ever present flask, and her rude and snotty reply she had snipped to cover a range of ridiculous emotions that had flooded her. She remembered hating herself for it and working up the courage, over several days, to somehow make it right. She smiled as she relived the more pleasant side to the memory. They had been alone in the tributes apartment when she had asked for a sip. She had spoken so softly that he had grumbled at her with a smirk. "What was that Princess?" He had made her repeat it until she was basically shouting when he finally relented. "Of course, just be careful, I doubt you will be able to take it." It had taken all her might not to cough up everything she had swallowed, but she managed to. Though apparently the strain had shown on her face as he chuckled at her and passed her a grey looking hanky. She had wiped her eyes, which had watered with the fierce intensity of the raw alcohol (how could he drink that every day?!), and then kept it in her hand. He never asked for it back and she still had it, always tucked into her pillowcase, a fact which caused her to burn with embarrassment. She, at some point in all this, had begun acting like a love-struck teenager. She was being ridiculous. She knew this, but still she rolled on her side and reached into her pillow to finger the fabric.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thank you so so much Ashli Nicole. Just a little review was all I need to have a bit of confidence to write this next chapter :)_

 _This next chapter got away from me a bit (what can I say - I love Hayffie SO much!) So I will change the rating on this fic to M just to be careful._

 _Thank you for reading and please do review. Please :)_

2

It had been, apparently, possible for Effie to fall asleep again after the train jolt that had unceremoniously awoken her hours earlier. She allowed herself a rare snooze of her alarm as she lay in comfortable waking bliss. Before all the worries and problems of the day flooded her, and she could just dreamily drift for a few minutes. She had fallen asleep thinking of him, how many times had that happened recently? Too many regardless of the actual amount. But still she had to admit that these little dreamy moments where she allowed herself to think of him were the only thing which gave her peace. Nothing serious, she told herself, just a little daydream to help her day go by, nothing that meant anything real. Admitting there were actual feelings and desires would be ridiculous, disturbing even, but harmless day dreaming that was fine. Her alarm buzzed again and it was time to start her day for real.

The problem with her stupid romantic fluttery thoughts she allowed herself as sleep claimed her or struggled to let her go, was that it meant that reality was even harder to bare. Haymitch greeting her with a grunt, or replying to her with thinly veiled disdain, struck though her heart and brought her screeching into reality. It was easy to imagine everyone hating you when the one who occupied your mind the most clearly did. They were all at breakfast, the train finally back on schedule – speeding towards The Capitol where they would arrive later that morning. The tributes were eating heartily seemingly oblivious to her and Haymitch's current and most recent war of words. She was done justifying her presence, her role in the team (if that's what they were).

"You got it, Sweetheart."

He said in such a condescending tone she felt she would scream.

"How can you be like this already?!"

She had yelled, as she struggled to stay in control of her temper. She checked herself and continued more quietly but with, what she hoped was, steely cold conviction.

"You can't treat me this way, not in front of them, you can't speak to me this way."

She used the pain to fuel her hate towards him, trying to give as good as she got, hardening her heart and swearing to herself that this was it, she was giving up the romantic thing in her head. And then she saw the flicker across his face, the grin which reached his eyes. He had been playing her and she had risen to it, he could control her so easily, and what was worse he knew it. She stood up abruptly her chair making an uncomfortable noise which even the tributes looked up from their food at. She threw her napkin down on her plate with a pout, the whole display was something she hated the moment she started but it was like she wasn't in control of her actions. She should laugh it off, she should do something to lessen the spectacle she was making of herself but she couldn't. Haymitch made a show of furrowing one eyebrow and rolling his eyes in her direction for the kids and they scoffed. He had made them laugh, he had made their time more bearable with just a gesture of his face. She couldn't bare it and she hurried from the room before she let out anymore emotion. How did he manage it? He could make her feel so small and stupid, but at the same time make her heart melt as he showed the compassion he had for the tributes. She hated that he had such a hold on her emotions, she needed to pull herself together.

"Sorry Eff."

His words made her jump as she spun to see him, she hadn't notice him follow her into a separate carriage on the train. One which was filled with plush leather sofas and chairs. In one corner was a bar made of polished wood which Haymitch naturally gravitated towards. He poured himself a drink out of a crystal decanter then with an incline of the bottle in her direction he wordlessly offered her one. She shook her head, it wasn't yet 9.30 for heavens sake, but still she couldn't help but be touched at the offer.

"You just make it so easy."

He half chuckled at the last part, and the warm look this caused in his face was the first reason setting off a domino effect in her mind of all the things she had grown to love about him. Foolish infatuation manifested itself as a blush colouring her cheeks.

"No, I'm sorry." She sighed. "I was snippy, it was particularly poor manners on my part."

Haymitch was visibly surprised at the admission of fault coming from her, it seemed to soften him, and he sunk into one of the cosy sofas at least one of them normally occupied of an evening. He patted the cushion next to him, and despite alarm bells ringing all through her head, she decided to throw caution to the wind and slumped down next to him. Her wariness causing her to basically fall down into it, which in turn caused a little amber liquid to slosh from Haymitch's glass. She looked at him apologetically, realising she probably sat a touch close (but would it be good manners to slide away, or was it worse invading his personal space, with some things she certainly wasn't a natural in polite behaviour.) He clearly swallowed down whatever cutting remark would normally follow any action of hers and locked onto her eyes with an intensity that made that secret part of her, deep inside, light up and burn beneath her skin. It was moments like these which she remembered when she was alone in bed.

"It was the train stopping wasn't it?" Haymitch supplied for her, not giving her a chance to respond. "I knew as soon as it woke me that it would be worrying you. Causing you to stress out like a mad thing. I went and chewed a few workers out – told 'em to hurry up. I bet you didn't sleep a wink. Mind you, neither did I. Not that I think we need to be at our best this year, do you Princess? I think we could give up now for all the difference it will make."

Effie was shocked, and if she was being honest with herself completely thrilled, at the fact that Haymitch had thought of her during the night. He had acted on her behalf, he had fought for her, the warmth under her skin was quickly turning into an inferno as she let the foolish side of her take over momentarily, he was being so kind to her it could almost be a night time fantasy. She didn't miss the bitterness in his voice though.

"Don't say that..."

She struggled for anything more. She couldn't defend their position or the poor kids who she had so grimly reaped to be tributes. Both so young, both so thin and obviously weak. They would be picked off immediately. It was hopeless, and it made the tokenism of their roles as escort and mentor more painful for the rest of the season.

"Eff, you know as well as I do that those kids don't stand a chance."

She did, she did know and the thought made her feel like crying all over again. What was wrong with her today? She would have to make a conscious effort to be more chipper and upbeat.

She noticed his reaction before she realised what her hand had done without her permission. She cast her eyes down and saw she had placed it on his thigh, a gesture that was presumably intended for comfort but had maybe landed a few cm higher than it would have done had she done it consciously. Her whole body turned numb and she felt glued to the spot. She couldn't remove her hand now, that would look ridiculous, draw more attention to the action. She could feel herself getting hot, and it had been far too long since she had spoken but she couldn't formulate a sentence in her head. It was like all her brain power was taken up with processing this new sensation of his firm thigh, how small her hand now looked against it. She had never noticed how much bigger than her he was. She became to aware of his scent filling the air around her, woody and manly, spiced with the alcohol he drank, and also that she was breathing to heavily – her chest swelling with every breath as she scrambled to regain control of her senses. The feeling in her legs was gone, all that was left was a pleasant, but highly inappropriate tingling, that radiated from her thighs and raced upwards sending jolts from her core into her blood which raced around her body. She was being foolish, it was just a little touch, he probably hadn't even noticed. But he had noticed, she had felt the muscle tense at the unexpected contact, and as she managed to drag her eyes up to meet his, opening her mouth slightly to try and speak, she realised he had noticed her reaction too. His eyes burnt into her and for a second the thought flashed through her mind that maybe he was having the same onslaught of lights and fire coursing through his body. Some line had been crossed which she had worked hard to maintain, so as not humiliate herself like this. She still hadn't spoken and when she tried all that happened was that her tongue darted out to lick her lips.

It felt like immediately he closed the gap between them, his lips crashing into hers with a soft intensity which sent sparks from her core to every nerve ending. Fireworks were going off in her head and she was having to struggle to keep up with what was happening. Her body and responded on autopilot, returning his kiss and allowing him to deepen it. The one hand that had started it all now gripped onto his thigh as the other started it's journey across the body she had so longed to touch. She reached his neck, her fingers carefully climbing, delighting in the coarse stubble across his jaw before reaching back into the soft blonde hair that so often fell over the crisp grey eyes which she had become accustomed to dreaming about.

They remained locked together for what felt like an exquisite stretch of time. How long had it been since she had kissed like this, if ever, so much burning passion but with an unspoken delicacy not to push too far too fast. Her world just stopped. Anything could be happening around them and she wouldn't notice or care, all she wanted was to lose herself in this moment and to revel in every bit of Haymitch's fervent exploration of her. There seemed to be no expanse of bare skin which he had not either kissed or grabbed. He feathered kisses down her neck and across her collar bone eliciting soft moans of pleasure to spring from her throat. His stubble causing a wonderful friction against her soft milky skin. His hands grabbed hungrily at her bare legs, his strong rough hands squeezing as they pushed upwards, raising her skirt a little but not so much that she felt the need to stop him. In actual fact the longer they spent together like this, with Haymitch gently but assertively pushing her back onto the sofa, taking control, the less she cared about what was proper – the more she wanted his hand not to stop above the knee but to push on further. Her hips rocked towards his and he responded in the same way, as if they were magnets pulled together.

As he grabbed at her waist and nipped his teeth against the soft skin on her neck, Effie lost whatever control she had been holding onto and gave in completely, she moaned loudly gasping at the little flicks of pain he was inflicting as he began to get a little rougher with her, seeming to lose his control too. She decided then that there was going to be no stopping this on her part, if he wanted to have her right here on the sofa he could. Her body, knowing this attitude, started to draw Haymitch in deeper to her. She rocked her hips and arched her back jutting out her chest, offering herself to him, and he wasn't about to pass up an invitation like that. He roughly pulled down the top she was wearing (a summer mint light jumper – she had been favouring pastel colours recently) and the cup of her lilac lacing bra, revealing her breast and almost undoing him completely. His mouth dove to her, his tongue encircling and teasing her nipple so well that the lust filled fog that filled her brain lit up and took over.

"Haymitch."

Spilled from her lips in a half gasp half moan. It was the first word spoken since they first became entangled with one another and it seemed to shock them both. He pulled himself back to be level with her, her chest immediately protesting the sudden loss of attention. She looked into his eyes for the first time for what seemed like an age. She couldn't deny they dark lust in them, and was sure her own were reflecting that same desire too.

"Are you ok Princess?"

"Yes. Most definitely." She managed to reply breathily.

"Good." He said with an annoyingly smirky grin. She couldn't help but smile into the kiss he pressed against her lips almost instantaneously. He was infuriating sometimes but there was no denying now that he was all that she wanted. It seemed to her that if the rest of her life was spent lying on this sofa making out with this ruggedly handsome mess of a man then that would be all right with her.

The train chose this moment to jolt to a stop. Less violently than in the night but enough to cause Haymitch to lose his precarious balance and crash onto the carpeted floor, knocking a small table with his foot, sending his half finished drink across the floor.

"This is getting insufferable."

Effie stated straightening out her clothes so as to seem slightly less ridiculous when complaining about the state of their transportation.

"Not great timing"

Haymitch chuckled trying to straighten himself out, but he was missing several buttons on his shirt and had an unfortunate tenting happening in his pants. Effie averted her eyes, but she couldn't unsee what she had done. What they had both done. She was sure she looked every bit as dishevelled as he did. She could even feel the lilac curls on her head unbalanced as clearly she may have lost a few wig pins during their... encounter. She blushed terribly.

"Really sweetheart? I don't think you can go back to being prim and proper after all that. I mean, I never would have dared to dre-"

Effie cut him off.

"I'm going to see what it is this time. Honestly it's getting to be beyond acceptable." She was trying to regain her composure but failing terribly. From above the blinds tall buildings were now crowded into the skyline. Rather than tease her mercilessly, which he was very capable of and probably entitled to do, Haymitch instead just pointed out a simple fact.

"We're here."


End file.
